


He's My Kind of Rain

by mafia_V



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Grian is a bit of a badass, M/M, No Angst, Xisuma is so gay. like. So Gay., a la zombies, minecrafty stuff idk, not really anyway, some injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mafia_V/pseuds/mafia_V
Summary: Xisuma is gay. that's it, that's the ficall you really need to know is that there's wall pinning and lots of gay staring in here
Relationships: Xisuma/Grian
Comments: 8
Kudos: 277





	He's My Kind of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is for a monthly ship box challenge in a discord server I'm in. this past month's was grisuma, and I'm not technically late yet because the next ship hasn't been voted on !!
> 
> nnnnnnot sure how much the title has to do with the actual fic itself bc I'm, bad at those lol ^^'
> 
> I wrote 98% of this fic last night jhfgkjhh

It's a dreary evening on the Hermitcraft server, overcast skies and chill air smelling of petrichor making it seem later than it is. Xisuma is bumbling around the shopping district, only half paying attention to where he's walking, counting diamonds and scrolling through admin logs. He's just come from his big turtle shop, and others prior, to check profits and restock as needed. Xisuma looks up at the darkening clouds and then back to the admin logs. He wants to check the severity of the coming storm; they've forced the weather clear for a long while, and a big one is overdue. If they were to let it build up much longer, the resulting storm may turn destructive.

Xisuma stops walking right in front of Grian's grind cart, in favor of looking through climate data. He doesn't notice the growing shadows, nor the beginnings of the noise of the creatures of the night. He also doesn't notice the sweater-wearing mischievous _buttface_ creeping up on him.

_"Boo !!"_

Xisuma startles so hard he very nearly drops the stack of diamonds he holds, and has to fumble to catch them. Grian stands before him, holding his sides and laughing, and Xisuma tries to glare, he does, but Grian's laughter is so bright, his soft features scrunched up with the force of his amusement, that Xisuma's irritation vanishes in a fraction of a moment.

"Goodness, Grian, you nearly scared the life out of me !"

Grian's laughter dies down a little, and he wipes a year from his eye and takes a deep breath to settle himself. "Sorry, Ecks-eye-zyoo-mah-voead, you just looked so absorbed in what you were doing. I couldn't resist !"

Xisuma chuckles and sets the diamonds into his inventory to deal with later. "Well, you certainly did a number on me. My heart's still racing !" Grian giggles, and Xisuma has to fight his physical instinct to lean toward the sound. Grian's eyes are bright despite the growing dark of their environment, something fond stealing across his amused expression.

"What's got you out here so late, anyway ?" Grian asks, gesturing at the shadows and the dark clouds overhead. Xisuma glances up, and then back down at his screens.

"I was checking on my shops and monitoring the weather," he says. "As you may know, we're not preventing this storm tonight."

Grian nods. "Yeah, Mumbo was talking about it earlier. I'm glad we don't have rain all the time and we can just have a big storm every once in a while instead."

Xisuma nods. He finally closes his command screens. He opens his mouth to speak, but the clouds choose that moment to break, cold rain pelting down on them both. Grian lets out a loud _whoop_ and grabs Xisuma by the arm, tugging him underneath the awning to the grind cart with a laugh. Xisuma is glad for the dark and his helmet, because he can feel heat rising in his face at the casual display of strength.

"Oh man, we're both soaked now !" Grian remarks.

Xisuma chuckles and wipes at his visor. "That was so sudden !"

Grian smiles up at him. Xisuma's eyes catch on his rosy cheeks, the way his hair is plastered to his forehead, his bright eyes shining in the low torchlight. He has to tear his eyes away, looking out into the downpour. His attention is drawn back to the builder, however, when Grian sighs. Xisuma looks back at him and finds him staring off somewhere to the left, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Is something wrong, Grian ?"

"No, I'm alright," Grian shakes his head and shoots Xisuma a smile. "I was just thinking about how I was gonna spend some time on the roof of my base tonight. I wanted to watch the stars a little." Grian shrugs. "There's always other nights. I was also thinking about how much it _sucks_ to fly in the rain."

Xisuma laughs. "Well, I can't disagree with you there. Not my favorite pastime, that's for sure."

Grian nods, smiling, but doesn't respond further. The two stand in silence for a few minutes, leaning back against the cart and listening to the rain. Grian has his eyes closed, enjoying the distant rolling of thunder.

Xisuma watches Grian. The tranquility on his face. The slight quirk of his delicate lips. The little curls in his slowly drying hair. Xisuma has to hold tightly to the counter of the grind cart to resist reaching out to touch. Xisuma swallows around the anxious lump in his throat. Maybe— maybe Grian would be receptive ? It almost seems like a perfect time. The rain, being forced to share the close quarters. Xisuma realizes distantly that his hands are shaking. He could do it. He could ask. He takes a quavering breath, lets it out slow. He knows Grian isn't seeing anyone right now. He could ask....

Grian's eyes snap open and before Xisuma has any chance to process what's happening he's whipped his trident out and flung it into the night. Xisuma hears the wet _thud_ of the weapon hitting its target, and then in a blink it's back in Grian's hand. Xisuma's gaze trails over Grian's arm, his sleeve so damp that it clings to the muscles underneath; up over his shoulders, to the fierce and searching look on his face. Grian watches the shadows intently, already poised to throw the trident again. Xisuma has to fight down the thrilled heat that rushes through him.

"We should go." Grian's voice is clipped, his eyes still on their surroundings. Xisuma nods. Grian reaches out and clamps his free hand around Xisuma's wrist before pulling him out into the rain once more. Xisuma can't help the squeak he makes. He follows after Grian, drawing his sword just in case.

Grian's warm grip is a comfort among the slick discomfort of the deluge, and Xisuma focuses on not tripping over divots in the stone path they walk upon.

He hears the rattle of bones off to their left, and lifts his sword. A volley of arrows cascades toward them, and Grian curses, ducking and kicking into a run. Xisuma is dragged after him, doing his best to keep up and keep the projectiles away from them. Grian turns a corner and stops hard in his tracks so suddenly that Xisuma slams right into his back. His broad, toned— _not now, Xisuma._

"What—"

_"Shh."_

Grian takes a step backwards, reaching back and pushing Xisuma in the same direction with a hand on his hip. Xisuma strangles a whimper and follows Grian's silent instruction. Grian gets them back around the corner, and then presses Xisuma up against the wall, crowding him in. Xisuma shivers, less from the cold and damp and more from the closeness. They stand chest to chest, Grian's feet planted between Xisuma's, their faces so close that were it not for his helmet Xisuma would be able to feel Grian's breath on his face. He _can_ feel the press of Grian's chest with every inhale. He can feel Grian's hands on his hips, holding him still. He can feel Grian's knee, just barely brushing his own. Xisuma can see the laugh lines around Grian's eyes. Xisuma can see a small droplet of water snaking down Grian's jaw and slipping down his neck to disappear in his collar. Xisuma can see the way Grian's Adam's apple moves when he swallows.

"Xisuma," Grian murmurs. Xisuma snaps his gaze away from Grian's neck and instead looks into his eyes. Grian stares up at him, an intense look on his face. Xisuma's knees are weak, and he has to lean more heavily against the wall behind him for support. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. His mouth is very, very dry, all of a sudden.

Grian looks to the right, toward whatever it is that he made them back away from. His eyes flick back to Xisuma's. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. Xisuma gulps. "Do you trust me ?"

Xisuma frowns slightly, but nods.

"There are like, twenty zombies over there. I need you to do exactly what I say, when I say it, okay ?"

"Okay," he breathes, and Grian nods shortly before pulling away. Xisuma didn't realize how warm he was getting; he struggles not to cry out at the sudden wave of cold from Grian's lack of body heat. "You have your sword ?"

Xisuma holds up the weapon in answer. Grian grabs his other wrist again and tugs him forward, leading the way into a crouch.

Xisuma sees what Grian was talking about almost immediately. There are more zombies than he can count shuffling about and bumping into each other. A horde of this size would make anyone balk to take on with so few people. Xisuma grimaces, readying his sword. Lucky this one has Smite.

Grian points out two low walls, and starts toward one. "You go there," he whispers, gesturing to the other, "and keep an eye on me. We've gotta take as many of them out with stealth as possible." Xisuma nods and goes toward the hiding spot as quietly as he can.

It's just his luck that he trips and smacks face first into the ground.

He yelps, in surprise more than pain, but it's enough to catch the attention of the undead around him, and then the ones around them. Xisuma has time to think uh oh before the first one is on him. He brings up his sword, and somehow managed to skewer the undead. It disappears in a puff of smoke, a couple bits of rotten flesh dropping to the ground. Xisuma scrambles to his feet, and then the next zombie is upon him. Or, _zombies_ ; three of them surround him, more behind them, and he struggles to block their insistent hands. He manages to kill one, but two more take its place, and one of them is wielding an iron sword that glints with enchantment. Xisuma elbows one zombie in the face, reaching up to wipe his visor and immediately having more rain flood his vision. The sword zombie manages to get him in the side, and he groans and covers the wound with his free hand even as he blocks another blow. This may be an uncomfortable, temporary end to him. Where has Grian gone ? Is he okay ?

His answer comes in the form of lightning. Grian is framed beautifully by the arcing brilliance, standing atop a small hill and holding his trident aloft as it channels the bolt. The beam is so hot that his hair has dried, and his fierce look sends shivers down Xisuma's spine. He watches as Grian swings the trident around with both hands, drawing a powerful arc through the air, and releases the lightning upon the undead. It sparks across them, burning more than three quarters of the mass threat in mere moments. The zombies drop flesh and iron and even some vegetables. The remainder are easy enough to dispatch, especially when Grian presses up against his back, watching his blind spots and fighting in tandem with him. They move so effortlessly together that the last zombies are made quick work of.

Xisuma turns to thank Grian, but grunts in pain when the movement pulls at his side. Grian frowns and tugs him close, feeling along Xisuma's side with warm hands to find and examine the wound. Xisuma hisses, and Grian murmurs an apology. He rummages through his inventory, and hands Xisuma a golden apple.

"It won't heal it completely, but it's all I've got."

"Thank you, Grian," Xisuma says through clenched teeth. He pauses, remembering his helmet. Xisuma hands the apple back to Grian, who shoots him an inquisitive look, but understanding dawns when Xisuma reaches for the latches on his helmet. Xisuma pulls off his helmet, careful not to lift his arm too high on the side that he's injured. His head is immediately drenched, water dripping into his eyes and his hair plastered to his head. He can hardly see, and the thick air is difficult to breathe, but he plucks the apple out of Grian's hand and brings it to his lips to take a bite. Grian watches him closely, and he flushes slightly as he bites into the apple, the stiff layer of precious metal giving way under his teeth and yielding the crisp fruit underneath. He savors the metallic-sweet taste, closing his eyes and sighing in relief at the wave of warmth that ripples through him, the apple's magic easing the pain.

Xisuma's eyes flicker open, and he finds Grian staring at him with wide, dark eyes, his lips slightly parted. Xisuma reflexively licks his own lips at the sight. Grian blinks and ducks his head. Xisuma frowns, confused, but busies himself by finishing the apple. He wants to put his helmet back on.

Once he's eaten down to the core, Xisuma tosses the remains of the apple away and lowers his helmet back over his head. He takes a deep breath as he latches it back into place. Grian looks up at the noise, something unreadable on his face. Xisuma glances down at Grian's mouth again, and licks his lips once more. He realizes what he's doing and shakes his head slightly.

"Thank you," he says. He feels over the site of the injury, noting that the sluggish bleeding from before has stopped and the wound has even closed over a little.

Grian looks down and nudges his hands out of the way so he can feel it himself. He nods, satisfied, and shakes his head. "The plan was to take them out _stealthily_. Why did you fight then straight on ?"

Xisuma rubs the back of his neck. "I tripped and fell over and made a noise and then they were all around me," he says sheepishly.

Grian sighs, but when he turns his face upward he's wearing a smile. "You really are a derp sometimes, X," he says, a fond note in his voice.

Xisuma blushes, thankful that his helmet hides it. "Yeah," he chuckles breathlessly.

Grian takes his wrist again and whirls around, pulling him once more towards some goal that Xisuma isn't aware of. He follows dutifully, around turns, up and down inclines. Visibility is low, but still Grian plows onward.

Almost without Xisuma realizing it, they cross through into the modern district. Ah. Grian leads the way up to Python's door, not even bothering to knock as he lets them both in. They stand dripping on the large rug just inside the door. The house is empty, Python long since gone. Grian sits on the foot of the stairs to the loft, stretching out to reach for his toes. Xisuma sets his sword on the rack just inside the door, then makes his way over to the furnace under the stairs Grian sits on, sparking a fire over some leftover wood and kindling that had been left behind by the last hermit to take refuge here. With the light from the furnace Xisuma looks around, seeing the small cobwebs in the corners and the dust on the tops of the vacant chests. It's been a long while since anyone truly lived here. Python had moved out a long time ago in favor of new places.

Grian finishes stretching with a groan and hoists himself to his feet. Xisuma flushes at the noise. He's surprised when Grian takes him by the upper arms and backs him toward the stairs. His mind stutters, but Grian simply makes him sit down. He sighs appreciatively and leans back against the stairs. Grian peels up his armor where it's sticking to his side with half-dried blood and peers at the wound.

"We should probably get this cleaned," he says softly. Xisuma huffs, but rummages in his inventory for a bucket of clean water. He hands it over to Grian, and plops down an ender chest to dig for his wool shulker box. Grian waits patiently for him to find it.

Xisuma hands Grian some wool and then leans back on the stairs once more, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. It stings, a little, when Grian starts wiping the blood away, but otherwise Grian's hands on him feel very nice. He’s only a little bit embarrassed about being without a shirt. It was soaked anyway, he figures. But now that they're safe, and it's quiet but for the rain pattering on the wood roof, Xisuma is feeling fatigued.

He blinks awake, not remembering dozing off, to find Grian hovering over him, a soft look in his eyes. "Hey," he murmurs. "You want to sleep on these uncomfortable stairs ? Or would you rather lay in a soft bed ?"

"Bed," Xisuma mumbles. Grian chuckles quietly and helps him up, and they lean against each other going up the stairs. Xisuma drops onto one side of the bed, pulling a tank and his cannula tubing out of his inventory and connecting all the pieces before he has to take his helmet off. Grian mills about behind him, likely getting himself comfortable before climbing into bed. He feels Grian's weight dip the mattress behind him. _They're sharing the bed._ He feels his face heat up. He hesitates for a moment before unlatching his helmet and taking it off.

Grian taps him in the shoulder. He turns around, and Grian hands him a towel. "Here," he says quietly. Xisuma murmurs his thanks and rustles his hair as dry as he can get it.

He feels a little light headed. Oh. He picks up his cannula from his lap and slips it on, pulling the tubing over his ears and tightening the slide under his chin. He sighs, sets his helmet on the floor next to the bed, and then lays back against the pillows.

Grian still sits on the bed above the covers. He’s taken off his sweater and the shirt underneath. Xisuma blushes as he examines the muscles of Grian’s back. All of that building and digging and heavy lifting he does has made him very, very strong. He thinks back to earlier, with the fight against the zombies. How Grian had felt fighting behind him, their backs pressed together. How Grian had felt _against_ him, standing against the wall. How Grian had looked, so pretty, under the awning of the grind cart....

Grian has his back turned, and is fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. Xisuma reaches out and touches his fingers to the small of his back. Grian startles, and whips his head around. His damp hair swats his face, longer for the moisture in it. Grian’s eyes dart down to Xisuma’s chest, and his already red face turns a deeper shade, his blush reaching all the way down to his collarbone. Xisuma licks his lips, suddenly breathless for a whole different reason.

“Xisuma....” Grian breathes. Xisuma’s heart races. Grian _never_ uses his proper name.

“Yeah ?” he asks, just as quiet.

Grian twists and leans over, bracing himself with one arm to the side of Xisuma’s head. “....I really like you,” he announces lowly. Xisuma settles his hands gingerly on Grian’s upper arms, shivering at the way his muscles move with every shift of his weight.

“Yeah ?” he repeats, his mouth dry.

“Yeah,” Grian confirms, leaning down just a little bit closer.

Xisuma tilts his face up and slightly to one side, blinking slowly. “I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he whispers. Grian’s pretty eyes flutter closed, and Xisuma closes the distance, and Grian makes a gutteral noise in the back of his throat, cupping Xisuma’s face with his free hand. Xisuma wraps his arms around Grian’s shoulders, pulling him even closer, shifting his weight and nudging Grian to move into a more comfortable position. Grian pulls away only long enough to clamber between Xisuma’s legs, immediately recapturing Xisuma’s lips and leaning his whole body on Xisuma’s with a groan.

Xisuma buries his hands in Grian’s hair, tugging lightly and nibbling at his lower lip. Grian moans and slides his hands up Xisuma's chest, careful of the still-healing wound at his side. He jolts at the touch, arching his back off the bed with a grunt. Electricity prickles across his skin where Grian is touching him. His head is swimming.

All too soon they have to part for breath. Grian laughs, a bright, happy thing, as Xisuma drops his head back onto the pillow and gasps for air, panting hard. Grian presses kisses along his jaw while he waits for Xisuma to catch his breath, nipping at his skin and then laving his tongue over the smarting bites. Xisuma feels up Grian's shoulders, slides his fingertips down over the bumps of his spine. Grian shivers and kisses at the tender spot under Xisuma's jaw.

"Wow," Xisuma sighs. Grian lets loose a chaotic little giggle and rests his weight on top of Xisuma, nuzzling under his chin. Xisuma plays with Grian's hair, curling the strands around his fingers.

Grian yawns. "I really like you," he repeats, his voice low and sleepy.

Xisuma kisses Grian's forehead. "I really like you, too," he murmurs. He blinks heavily, fighting against sleep. "I thought you wouldn't like me," he admits quietly. "If I told you. I thought you might not want to be my friend anymore."

"I wouldn't ever not want to be friends with you," Grian says simply. "Even if I didn't.... really like you." He laughs, and then sighs. "I thought _you_ might not want to be friends anymore. I've been trying to keep my feelings to myself for a long time." He pauses, then props himself up on his elbows. "That's why Mumbo and Iskall keep laughing at me whenever I bring it up !" he says indignantly, a petulant expression adorning his features. Xisuma chuckles and brushes some hair out of Grian's face. It falls back almost immediately.

"Well, I haven't exactly been very subtle, despite my best efforts," Xisuma sighs. "Bdubs and Keralis tease me all the time, too."

Grian kisses Xisuma's cheek and then lays back down. "Yeah, well. We figured it out _eventually_." There's humor in his voice, and Xisuma smiles even as his eyes slip closed. The soft bed and the warm weight of his new— lover ? boyfriend ?— lulls him to a swift and easy sleep.


End file.
